


Retrograde

by SeventhStrife



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Exhaustion, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Prompto Argentum, Hurt/Comfort, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeventhStrife/pseuds/SeventhStrife
Summary: Prompt from theffxvkinkmeme.It's moments like these that make Prompto wonder if he really belongs after all.





	Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> It's such a relief to finally post one of the _fifty_ prompts from the kinkmeme that I've saved. Jesus.
> 
> Takes place during that wonderful, nebulous time after their first visit to Lestallum, but Pre-Altissia.

A light slap on his shoulder startles Prompto from his dazed stare at the carpet, eyes snapping open wide and heart jack-rabbiting in his chest. 

He snaps his head up with a "Whuh?" and catches the tail end of Gladio's smirk as he steps away. He's got a towel around his neck and his hair, slicked back, is dripping

"Bathroom's all yours, Blondie."

An explosive yawn. Prompto winces when he stretches, pulling muscles that are very angry at him right now. "Right. Thanks." 

An hour ago, when they'd first arrived in Lestallum, the promise of a shower would have made Prompto weep with joy. But after sitting in a quiet room without having to fight or run from Imperials at a moment's notice, he's hard-pressed to find the motivation to move at all.

 _It's your own fault for letting everyone go first._ Prompto knows that he's with friends, that he doesn't need to put them above himself every chance he gets, but he just can't  _help_ it. He'd like to think he's proven himself by now, but doubts niggle in the back of his mind and he finds himself sacrificing a little extra time or food here and there as if it'll make him somewhat less of a burden. Sure, Noctis had reassured him no one thought that way, but hey, that's anxiety for ya. Never really knows when to quit.

But Prompto doesn't want to be the only one stinking up their nice hotel room, and the thought of dirtying up the soft, clean sheets _(In a bed!! A real, honest-to-Eos, bed!!!)_ seems almost sacrilegious after all the camping.

Still, even sitting in a stiff chair at their little table, he finds himself procrastinating just a  _little_ longer. The chair's not even that comfortable, but it's  _sitting_ and  _not in the Regalia._

He casts his eyes around the room, taking inventory. Noctis, of course, is asleep. He got first dibs on the shower this time, all but demanding it with a grunt and a warning glint in his eyes.

Prompto frowns, watching as Noctis moves slightly in his sleep, burying himself further under his blanket.

If Prompto's being honest, he's worried about him. Hell, he's worried about  _all_ of them. It's a double-edged sword, how busy they've been since the fall of Insomnia. Sure, they don't have time to really sit and grieve, but on the other hand,  _they don't get to grieve._ They've all lost people, their home. The three of them cling to Noctis in what sometimes feels like a desperate bid to retain _some_ sort of purpose, but what does Noct get to cling to? He lost his father, home, and his birthright overnight. Prompto can't even  _imagine_ what he's going through. He's hunted day in and day out by Imperials and he has to just _deal_ with the fact that Lady Lunafreya is out there being hunted as well  _without_ bodyguards, forging covenants with the Astrals with them always a step behind.

Ignored or not, stress like that manifests no matter what. It shows in how he snaps sometimes over the smallest things, or the random, fiercely passionate occasions he decides to drive, just needing _something_ to do. In battle, he's vicious and absolute, warping amongst hunts and MTs like an avenging angel, crystals glittering in his wake. He curls up when they get a moments rest, but Prompto can tell he's not really sleeping that much. His eyes are red more often than not after one of these 'naps', and Prompto's spotted bruise-like marks under his eyes more than once.

Prompto's heart aches for him, but there's only so much he can do besides  _be_ there. It feels useless most days.

Then there's Ignis and Gladio. Ignis seems fine, carefully stowing away his glasses and slipping into the same bed as Noct. But Prompto's practically an expert on stress and all the fun ways it manifests. While always a bit serious, Prompto can count the number of times he's seen Ignis smile on one hand since they heard the news about Insomnia. And that's being  _generous._ Every time Prompto's tried to cajole him into joining the rest of them for a game of King's Knight or taking it easy on the cooking, he's politely yet firmly rebuffed. Prompto totally understands sticking to a routine when times get tough, but there are time's he's wondered if Iggy's maybe going a bit overboard. Prompto has to force himself to unclench  _everything_ if he looks at Ignis too long, he's so rigid.

Gladio...Most days Prompto wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole since he takes any physical contact as an invitation to wrestle. And that's when he's  _not_ angry. Every since Iggy brought in that newspaper and Prompto read aloud _"Insomnia Falls"_ , it's like he's  _always_ angry. He's only slightly satiated during their battles and is quick to snap at Noctis when he voices even the slightest complaint. Then Ignis jumps in, scolding Gladio for pissing off Noctis, and then Gladio's at  _his_ throat, and it just becomes this awful, terrible cycle. Prompto's jumped in a few times to diffuse the situation with a few well-meaning quips or an over-exaggerated complaint of his own, but...well, with their anger focused on him, his self-esteem's certainly been better.

Add to all that the last week of hunting with hardly any luck, having to fight three dropships in one day, and most of their gil budget being blown on more repairs to the Regalia and potions—they could all use a break. Being the last into the shower is a small sacrifice if it means his friends will feel a little better.

"Prompto!" Gladio's sharp tone snaps him right out of his depressing thoughts. Gladio jerks his chin at the bathroom, already stretched out on the other bed. "Get in already. I don't want to hear your complaining when you wake up with cramps 'cause you fell asleep in a  _chair."_

With a sheepish chuckle, Prompto forces himself upright, ignoring the painful twinges in his legs radiating from deep within the muscles. "That would be pretty dumb, huh?"

Gladio grunts noncommittally, tossing his pillow off the bed and laying back. It'll still be a couple of hours before the sun sets, yet everyone's already going to bed. After all the fighting and scavenging and scant meals, Prompto hardly blames them; he can't wait to  _join_ them. 

Conscious of the sedate, somber mood in the air, Prompto tiptoes to his bag and grabs a change of clothes and a toothbrush. He tucks himself into the bathroom and shuts the door as softly as he can, losing a bit of tension in his shoulders when he's done.

The shower, like most things in Prompto's life, doesn't go the way he planned. On the plus side, the others saved him some hot water and because he's last he doesn't have to rush and it's  _amazing._

Unfortunately, by the time he's out and dressed, it completely demolishes any of his drowsiness. He's tired, sure, but he takes one glance at the empty space next to Gladio and his brain decides, _Na_ _h._ A restless energy that he's learned not to ignore wants him to  _do_ something. So, with a forlorn sigh and a single glance back, Prompto grabs his camera and phone and slips out of the room.

 _So...what now?_ Prompto takes his time leisurely strolling to the lobby of  _The Leville,_ considering his options. They're pretty few without the others or much gil.  _Guess it's walking around town and looking for photo ops._

He runs into Iris downstairs, laughing with Talcott when he draws near.

"Where are you off to?" Iris asks, warm eyes curious.

Prompto shrugs, smiling. "Wherever the wind takes me," he says with an exaggerated air of mystery. It earns him some giggles and he has to hide his own smile of relief; with everyone being so moody lately, he'd been a little worried he'd lost his touch. He hefts his camera slightly where they can see. "Couldn't fall asleep so I figured I'd walk around a little, see the sights, maybe tire myself out."

 Iris and Talcott exchange a glance. 

"Want us to come with you?" Iris asks.

"It's cool," Prompts says, flapping his hand. "I'm just seeing the sights. Uh, but if you see they guys, maybe let them know I wasn't kidnapped?"

He receives twin nods. "No problem."

"Have fun!"

"Bye!" Throwing a wave over his shoulder, Prompts trots out of the hotel, curious eyes scanning the streets around him and hands already hoisting his camera. 

The last time they'd come to Lestallum they'd only seen a few glimpses of the city, more focused on Iris and what news she had of Insomnia, and then finding the royal tomb. But now, with everyone else dead asleep and his whole afternoon open, Prompto can really explore.

_Okay, Lestallum. Show me what you've got!_

Prompto takes his time strolling through the city, his shutter going off in almost ceaseless, rapid-fire clicks. He captures the vibrant, exotic goods at the market and the large palm trees swaying gently in the warm breeze. He snaps a few pics of the vendors cooking fresh, local meat, shouting their wares to any passerby who wanders close. He gets a few of the power plant and even a selfie with one of the workers, large, bulbous helmet tucked underneath one arm and thick thermal suit doing nothing to hide her impressive muscles.

The only thing he regrets is all the tight, black layers; it never got this hot back home.

Eventually, his wandering leads him to the entrance of the city. He can't resist getting another few pics of the Disc; sure, he has several, but none from this angle, the city framed around it. 

Careful to look both ways before crossing the main street, Prompto makes his way closer to the lookout. It isn't until he glances down the steps that he catches sight of a familiar face.

"Vyv!" Prompto takes the steps down quickly, smiling happily.

Vyv twists to Prompto, fanning himself. He smiles wide in recognition and Prompto has to resist the urge to chuckle; he wonders if the city pays him to be a permanent fixture.

_Come to Tropical Lestallum! Enjoy our beautiful weather and five-star hotels! Tour the revolutionary EXINERIS power plant! Talk to Vyv!_

"Well, if it isn't my favorite photographer! How's it going?"

Prompto  _knows_ Vyv's just being nice, but he still blushes all the same.  _He called me a **photographer.** Wow._

"Pretty good, I guess," Prompto replies, smiling. "What about you?"

"Good. Better now that you're here. Say, you wouldn't be up for a job, would you?"

Prompto blinks, surprised. After that first time he'd taken pictures for Vyv, he'd assumed it would be the last. Vyv certainly had a keen eye and it would only make sense that he would seek a real professional out. Prompto almost wants to deny him on principle.

But then Prompto remembers the last week of traveling, of saving all their gil for gas of potions and eating nothing but beans and toast, and nearly trips over himself in his haste to answer.

"Yes! Always!"

Vyv's smile grows, looking pleased. "That's just what I wanted to hear. See, I really pushed for this feature on the old legends, and I'd never hear the end of it if I submitted a couple of sloppy shots. And after seeing the way you work, I know you're just the guy to get me what I need."

Despite his fair complexion, Prompto's never been the type to fall prey to heat. However, with so much blood rushing to his face, Vyv is fast on his way to making a liar out of him.

Still, he nods along, hands gripping his camera tightly in anticipation. "Uh, yeah, no problem! What do you need?"

"A few shots of Taelpar Crag. It's the rift valley that separate Duscae and Cleigne and formed in the age of legends—or so they say. One shot from two different angles should do it."

"Taelpar Crag..." Prompto echoes, thinking hard. It sounds vaguely familiar. 

"Here." Vyv stops fanning himself long enough to pull a thick sheaf of paper and a marker from his pocket, unfolding it to reveal a map. He circles his target in thick, broad strokes, then hands it over. "Go ahead an use that. You can give it back when you give me the photos."

"I will! Thanks!"

"If you could get them to me sooner rather than later, I'll even through in a little extra for your trouble."

"I can do that! I'll go right now!" Prompto agrees straight away. Vyv grins.

"That's just what I wanted to hear. Good luck!"

"Yeah, thanks!" Prompto swings around and leaves with a skip in his step. He's too excited to keep the smile from his face, even though he probably looks like a weirdo grinning at nothing. 

A  _job! Finally,_ something he can do to alleviate the dark cloud that's been hanging over all them lately. And Vyv pays good money for shots, so not only could they afford some good food, but probably some more potions, maybe even an extra night's stay at _T_ _he Leville_?

_Oh, wait till the guys—_

Prompto draws up short just as he crests the steps, a little bit of reality piercing through his good mood.

Right. The guys. He's sure they'd be glad to hear of some gil coming their way, but...they're all asleep right now, and they  _all_ need their rest. It's not like driving Prompto out to take a few pics would be strenuous or anything, but with everyone being so snappish lately—well, he'd just rather not bother them, that's all. Plus, greeting them with a fat wad of gil sounds so much more appealing.

Prompto pulls out the map Vyv lent him, frowning. Taelpar Crag isn't  _too_ far away, but it's not exactly walking distance. He'd take the Regalia, but...Prompto shudders, just imagining Ignis's face if he ever found out, or, Astrals-forbid, he manages to crash it. Noctis would probably execute him if he saw so much as a scratch on it, too.

No, the Regalia definitely wasn't an option. 

Standing on the sidewalk of the busy highway, Prompto glances around, wracking his brain for an idea, when he spots the familiar sight of a Chocobo rental station. 

Prompto blinks, then grins.  _Yeah...that could work._

Despite all odds, Prompto manages to cobble together a good plan. Grab a chocobo with the last of his gil, take a quick trip to Taelpar Crag, grab a few shots, and—he eyes the afternoon sun—boom! Back before dinner.

He can do this. He can _definitely_ do this, no problem.

He's aware of the risks of traveling alone, but they're totally worth it. And he's not even going that far away, so he'll be fine. 

Still, Prompto pulls out his phone to leave a text explaining where he's gone on the _very_ unlikely chance anyone wakes up in the next few hours.

However, when Prompto goes to unlock his phone, he's greeted with an unresponsive black screen.

 _Well, shit._ His phone's completely dead. That's what he gets for playing King's Knight with Noct so late the night before. 

He could run to _T_ _he Leville_ and leave a message with the guys, but that kind of defeats the purpose of him not waking them in the first place. 

Prompto looks to the horizon, biting his lower lip nervously as he considers the setting sun. He can make it out to the Crag and back before nightfall, but that's only if he leaves  _right now._

Prompto hesitates a few seconds longer, then stuffs his phone into his pocket and jogs over to the Rent-a-Bird station.

 _I'll be quick,_ he reassures himself.  _They won't even know I'm gone._

**Author's Note:**

> Prompto doesn't have a lot of experience staying at hotels, so he doesn't know he can just leave a note with the front desk. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Title from [OctaHate.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68wuJ2ACi5s)


End file.
